Zane gritted his teeth and tried to get himself under control. The tears weren’t cooperating.
Ty stood and held him close for long minutes, long enough for Zane to pull himself together. He took a deep breath and stepped back.
Ty took his face in both hands and looked him in the eyes. “Feel better?”
Zane nodded and covered Ty’s hands with his own. “I don’t understand.”
Ty’s rough palm brushed over his cheek. “She’s lashing out the only way she knows how. Give it time.”
Zane closed his eyes as he pressed his cheek against Ty’s hand. “I’ve given it more than forty years,” he said, and it came out more harshly than he’d planned. “I’m not giving it any more. I hope you’re not too fond of Texas. I think I’d rather steer clear for a while.”
“Steer clear?” Ty asked drily. “Is that a cow joke?”
Zane choked on a laugh and whacked his knuckles against Ty’s chest. Ty reached out and hugged him again, and Zane held him close, thanking God that he’d found him. It didn’t matter what happened or what they went through, Ty always seemed to know how to make it better.
Zane frowned as he twisted a pink balloon around and around, forming it into what would ultimately look like a wiener dog with a huge nose. He tied off the last twist and held it up for Sadie.
“That doesn’t look like a pony, Uncle Z,” she said, scowling.
“But it’s pink.”
She narrowed her eyes, and after a long moment she petted his knee with a sigh. “It’s okay. You’ll do better next time.” Then she snatched the wiener pony out of his hand and went running.
Zane coughed against a laugh and glanced across the table at the others. Annie and Mark were laughing, their eyes on Sadie as she caroused. Zane’s gaze fell upon Ty. He was lounging and hiding a smile behind his hand, watching Zane.
“Shut up,” Zane grumbled, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Ty.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You try it next time.”
Ty chuckled and winked at him. He’d already regaled a group of the younger kids with magic, making a coin disappear and then pulling it out of Sadie’s ear, amongst other tricks. The only thing Zane could do that didn’t involve a knife was make a balloon animal. He’d made swords or those nebulous four-legged animals for each child. Now they were all swashbuckling and pretending to be tigers with their balloons.
There was a loud pop from somewhere nearby, and Zane cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, hoping no one had noticed him staring at his lover. No one was paying any attention to him, though.
The annual Carter Garrett Steers and Stripes Barbeque was in full swing.
Hundreds of people were in attendance, laughing, dancing, eating, and drinking. Kids roamed the crowd in packs. The sheriff and his men were here, as were several animal control officers.
Amidst the festivities was an undercurrent of tension. Barnum the Bengal tiger was still out there somewhere, and there was a high possibility he’d fixated on Ty’s scent as something familiar. The poachers were still free and running around, probably even at the party. And the news of Beverly’s ultimatum had spread through the family, the ranch hands, and the guests. Soon it would be all the way to Austin, and that seemed to be the biggest news of all. Zane was surprised to find that while some seemed to approve of Beverly’s “tough love” approach, most were appalled. She was being snubbed by a few individuals that shocked even Zane. But then, so was he.
“Donations for the trick shooting contest are about to close, ladies and gentlemen,” Harrison called out from the flatbed trailer they’d turned into a flag-festooned stage. “All proceeds this year will be donated to local animal shelters and the Roaring Springs Big Cat Sanctuary. You can sponsor a shooter for two hundred dollars. Let’s have a few more contestants.”
“You two ought to shoot, Z,” Annie said, looking across the round table at Ty and Zane.
Mark narrowed his eyes at Ty. “I suppose Grady would give a good showing. From what I remember, you were pretty good at the competitions.”
Ty shrugged, a mixture of humility and nonchalance. Zane was still trying to shake the nagging feeling that they would be putting Mark in handcuffs soon. With that and the ultimatum from his mother, he was having a hard time concentrating on what was going on around them.
He tore his eyes away from Ty and adjusted his hat.
“What do you think, Ty?” Annie asked. “Are you two good enough to compete?”
Zane tried not to smile too much as he glanced at his partner. They had no idea what he and Ty were capable of. Zane almost wanted to see Ty show them all what he could do.
“I don’t know, we do okay,” Ty answered with a careless shrug. He took another drink of his beer, then glanced over at the large area they’d cleared for the shooting gallery. “Trick shots don’t usually have much to do with how good a shot you are.”
Marissa leaned forward. She was sitting on Cody’s lap, and they’d been whispering and flirting for most of the day. “Why do you say that? I’ve been watching this stuff all my life, and it’s always the best shots who win.”
Ty shook his head. “It doesn’t just take shooting straight. It takes practice. It’s kind of like playing mini golf; they’re more like puzzles than pure tests of ability. Same guy who can hit a moving target at a hundred yards can’t always hit a penny on a fence post with a mirror. And a dude who can shoot the fluffy part off a toothpick at thirty yards while he’s hanging upside down by his balls might not hit a moving truck if it was trying to run him over.”
That drew a round of laughs, and Zane shook his head as he drank from his water bottle. It was hot, hotter than he remembered from his youth. He could feel the sweat making its way through his shirt. Ty had one of his Buffs around his forehead, sitting under his hat, and another around his wrist that he used periodically to wipe the sweat away from anywhere that needed. Zane imagined it was a system he’d created while in the Corps.
“You get a lot of target practice working for the FBI?” Cody asked. “I didn’t even think to ask if you carry normally or if it’s just been since you came to Texas.”
“Not exactly target practice,” Zane said under his breath. He ran his water bottle over his forehead.
Ty shot him a grin and emptied his beer. “Nothing too exciting,” he answered, tongue-in-cheek. “But yeah, we carry all the time.”